A Tale of Misfortune
by Iverson1590
Summary: An opportunistic young assassin has a chance encounter with a well known bounty-hunter, leading to an unusual shared journey... (Warning - Fairly graphic descriptions of sexual acts)
1. Chapter 1

A Tale of Misfortune

The Guardian's Sea was always rough. Spanning thousands of miles, separating Ionia and Bilgewater, contained on Blue Flame Island, from the mainland of Valoran. No-one dared cross the main body of the sea on their boats, they would sail directly from the Islands to the nearest coast of Valoran. They would then either dock and go across the land, or sail up the coast to their destination. All but one boat, however. A huge ship, with a multitude of billowing sails, and a marvelous carved head piece on the bow, depicting the glorious head of a majestic lion. Twelve cannons lined each side of the ship, and the deck was littered with pirates, lowering the main sail as the ship hurtled across the wave-ridden sea. With Blue Flame Island behind it, the ship seemed to glide across the water, which was flat and a deep blue for miles, all the way to the horizon. The entirety of the ship's stern was taken up by an extravagant, almost over-exaggerated cabin, with large black double-doors, littered with red love-hearts.

Inside was an equally extravagant desk, and in the chair behind it sat a female, leaning back with her feet resting up on the desk, crossed over. Sarah Fortune. She had a pair of thick black boots on, with ridiculous heels, that made it look impossible to walk. Her flared trousers clung to her legs and her ample bum, the leather tightly bound to her skin. Where the hemline of her trousers ended, her pasty white skin was left exposed, midriff completely on show. She wore a tiny white blouse that was barely more than a bra, barely even covering the bra she wore underneath. The straps on the bra she had on had slid down her arms and rested halfway between her elbow and shoulder. This left her more-than-large breasts practically bursting out of the material. Waves and waves of beautiful, curly red hair flowed from the top of her head, all the way down to just above her butt, her eyes a gorgeous shade of blue. Her hat was idly tossed on a chair on the corner of the room, and her eyes were gently shut as she was leaning back in her chair. The boat was clearly headed towards Piltover.

Meanwhile in Piltover, another figure was sat behind a desk, with their feet up resting on the surface, dozing in and out of what seemed like a daydream. This one was a male. His attire somewhat simpler, he merely had a pair of black tabis, a one piece black overall, and a black, hooded cloak. His face was obscured by the shadow cast by the hood on the cloak. Concealed up the sleeve of his right arm was a hidden blade, which was hilted and held in position expertly by his hand. He sat there, patiently waiting. He was evidently still in complete control, the daydream merely a distraction to pass the time. Before too long, the door clicked open, and in staggered a slightly intoxicated man, accompanied by what seemed like two strippers, or maybe even whores. The man was in an expensive looking suit, with his tie loosened and the top few buttons undone, a female on each arm. It took him a few seconds to register the cloaked figure at his desk. His eyes looked over him for a second, before he froze, the females looking at him in shock.

"Oh _shit!_" the man gasped, exasperatedly, before the cloaked figure's eyes bolted open, his pupils fixed on the suited-man. With the swiftness of a lightning strike, the cloaked figure let the blade slip out from his sleeve and into his hand, and in one motion he threw the knife in between the other mans eyes. He instantly dropped dead. The moonlight hit his face, barely illuminating his blue eyes. He stood up, glaring at the two whores who were simply stood there in shock, and pointed at them menacingly, as if to tell them that they saw nothing. He darted to the open window and jumped straight out into the night.

It was the dead of night, perfect for concealing himself in the shadows. He darted down the alleyways, moving away from the City Centre, eventually coming to the waterfront. The beach was perfectly white, and the sand lay almost flat. Stairs led up from the beach to a tiled row of restaurants and cafés that stretched for a mile. He walked to the edge of the tiles, and hopped over the wall, dropping down about 10 feet on to the beach. It would have been pitch black, but for the moonlight radiating down from a bigger than usual full moon, it being reflected brilliantly from the pure white sand. He walked straight down the middle of the beach, stopping just before where the tide wet the sand. Taking a seat, he simply gazed out to the calm sea. He tugged his hood down, it gently falling to his back. His icy-blue eyes now fully in view, below a side-swept fringe of firey hair. The giant mechanical clock on one of the skyscrapers behind him signaled that it had just turned 1am. He always seemed to end up here after a killing. He loved the tranquility, it calmed him. Originally, he was born and raised in Ionia, when he was a young boy he was inducted into a school to train him in the arts of a ninja. However, the Ionian traditions and values or honour, order and balance seemed all but lost on him, and he was eventually banished at the age of 17. He displayed more than a handful of unfavourable qualities, fierce competitiveness, underhanded dueling techniques, and most worryingly, a horrifying bloodlust. He was more than happy to slit throats, conceal weaponry, and stab people from behind. He found himself on the streets of Ionia, eventually finding himself as an inductee in the Order of Shadows, headed by the mysterious Zed. Zed took a shining to the young apprentice, giving him the simple moniker 'C'. He trained him personally, almost to the level of his equal. C was a ruthless killer, but at his core, he enjoyed peace and tranquility, hence his travels to the seafront after each killing.

He gazed out over the bay, leading out to the sea, past the docks to his right. In the middle of the night, the sea was always calm. Much to his surprise, a ship was coming in to the bay, headed towards the dock. C was intrigued, ships never came in at this time, it must be an unauthorised arrival. C quickly got himself up, pulling his hood over his head once more, sprinting swiftly across the beach, to the foot of the dock, just as the ship dropped anchor.

"Must be pirates..." he muttered to himself under his breath. He had had dealings with Pirates before, he would generally wait for them to disembark from their ship, and then loot sizeable sums of gold from the coffers.

"Another easy payday, I must be getting lucky..." he breathed.

Waiting for twenty minutes, eventually there was a rabble of voices, and the crew disembarked from the ship heading to the City. All apart from one. But C wasn't to know this. He leapt up on to the dock, near the stern of the ship, and scaled the back of the cabin where Sarah Fortune had earlier resided. He hit the top of the cabin, walked to the front of it, and dropped down on to the deck, looking around. He turned around, noting the door with, what seemed to him, to be peculiar hearts covering it. He scowled slightly, finding it to be rather tacky. He pressed his back up against the wall, and slid along, peering through the window into the cabin. Sarah was in bed, fast asleep on her side, facing the wall. An empty bottle of wine was on her desk, another rolling on the floor.

'She'll be no trouble', C thought to himself, walking on to the middle of the deck. He found an open hatch, and dropped down on to the first level of the ship. Jackpot immediately. He looked straight ahead into a large room, through the open door. Treasure chests filled to the lid with gold coins lined the back wall of the room, more money than C could ever hope to carry out by himself. He'd have to think about this one some more. He span around, and climbed the ladder back up to the main deck.

He moved back towards the cabin at the rear of the ship, thinking that there would be at least something of value in there. The only problem was Sarah sleeping in the bed, inside the very cabin. C could reason however, that it seemed like she'd drank two bottles of wine, and was likely out for the count. He pushed one of the doors open, surprisingly non-creaky, and slipped inside. He couldn't see much, only what was illuminated by the glow of the moonlight through the windows, which was the desk and Sarah's naked figure covered by a sheet. He carefully moved across the room to her desk, seeing her two pistols, 'Shock' and 'Awe', lined up on the surface.

'Sure, why not.' he thought to himself. Firearms, particularly antiques, usually sold for a few bits of gold on the market. He picked them up and stored them on the inside of his cloak, beginning to look around again. He began to move towards one of the walls, where a glass cabinet was situated. Unfortunately for him, the lack of light let him down, and his foot became caught on the stray frilly thong that Sarah had undoubtably thrown on the floor earlier when getting into bed. He stumbled slightly, the tremor caused on the floor toppled the empty bottle of wine from the desk, smashing on the floor. C didn't curse, simply sighed and closed his eyes. Things were about to get more interesting. He heard the groggy moan of a female from the other side of the room, stirring from being woken up, and turned to face the direction of the noise.

"Huhh? W-what?" Sarah mumbled, half asleep still. She slowly sat up, the sheet sliding from her body, revealing her unbelievable breasts, huge, round, and incredibly firm. C glanced down at them, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. He thought they were perfection. It was difficult for his eyes to tear away from her perky pink nipples.

It took her a couple of seconds to work out what was going on, before she snatched up her sheet and wrapped it around herself, anger overcoming her.

"Who the f-, what the hell are you doing on my ship, kid?" she yelled at him, her words notably slurred. She was definitely drunk.

C knew from his training that he would have to remain focused and calm in this situation. Zed had taught him this. He couldn't let himself become flustered, or worse, infatuated. He kicked her underwear, now caught around his ankle, to the side, and began to walk slowly towards to door, walking sideways so he could keep his eyes on her. He would make a little gold from selling those guns anyway; he didn't need to push his luck. Besides, she hadn't seen his face, it was too dark. She wouldn't ever recognize him, especially considering the two bottles of wine. He figured he'd just leave with his loot and never see them again. They were obviously from Bilgewater, not Piltover. Sarah jumped up off of her bed, wrapping her sheet around her body, and staggered slightly as she struggled to keep balance through her inebriation.

"Where do you think you're going, kid? You can't just leave now after coming in perving on me!" she said, almost jovially. Her words were rhythmical and almost song like, they rolled off of her tongue beautifully, not suggesting any threat or hostility. C chose to remain quiet, and continue walking sideways towards the door. Sarah watched him moving, and walked over to her desk clumsily. She scrabbled around her desk, looking for her guns, before realizing what had likely become of them. She looked up at C, a little concerned, and her shock was compounded when her eyes met C, who was now pointing one of her own guns straight at her. He still hadn't said anything to her, remaining silent.

"N-now steady on kid, you wouldn't want to hurt lil me would you?" she said quietly, the faintest quiver of fear detectable in her voice. She nervously adjusted the sheet covering her modesty, and she began to kneel down, trying to take cover behind the desk. C simply reached the door, and backed out of it, still pointing the gun towards her desk. He allowed the door to close behind him, restowing the pistol, and diving over the side of the ship into the sea. He had a sneaking suspicion that this wouldn't be the last he'd see of this pirate, however.

Sarah sat down at her desk, contemplating what had just happened to her. Her thoughts were blurry from the wine she'd drunk. She'd only come to Piltover for a break, a weekend off, to look around the shops and possibly get some maintenance on her ship. And now she'd lost her prized guns. And there was nothing she could have done about it. She slammed her fists down on the desk, and a tear rolled down her cheek, escaping from her right eye. She reached into her drawer, and pulled out a bottle of vintage rum, something she only drank on rare occasions. Now was one of those awkward moments. She took a swig from the bottle, the alcohol in the solution burning her mouth and throat as she swallowed it down. She took another swig, before the additional alcohol hit her system. She burped loudly, the force of it making her jump slightly. She stood up, swaying for a moment before steadying herself on the desk again, and stumbled uncontrollably to her bed, collapsing on to it, falling back into a slumber.

The following morning, C woke up in his room. His living circumstances were curious. He split half of his time living in a basement underneath a warehouse, and the other half living in his grandparents old house. Currently, he was in the basement. He slept on the floor with nothing but a pillow and a sheet in the corner, with another sheet anchored to the wall about 6 feet up, with two more anchors holding it to the floor, creating a tent-like structure. He rose, removing one of the anchors from the floor in order to let himself out, and strode into the middle of the basement. It had clearly previously been used as a storage space for the warehouse above, as boxes and crates lined the walls all around him, apart from his one little corner. He just slept in a pair of boxers, and he stood in the middle of the room, stretching broadly. He was slender, but muscular, with broad shoulders. He finished stretched, pushing his hand through the fringe of his hair, so that it sat backwards on top of his head, instead of over his forehead. He turned to the right and walked through a doorway at the far side of the room, into an industrial looking chamber mainly covered by pipes and brackets. He moved to the side of the room, and turned a wheel on one of the pipes. This caused water to come spilling down from the top of the room, from a pipe that C had sheered a hole into. His makeshift shower. He removed his boxers and stood under the running water, his hair and body quickly becoming doused. The water was ice cold, and his skin immediately came out in goosebumps, his muscles involuntarily shivering through the chill. He shut his eyes and leant his head back, the water splashing over his face and running down his neck, travelling through the creases in his skin where his muscles were defined. After allowing the water to soak his entire body, he stepped away from the stream of water, and moved towards the valve on the wall, shutting the flow of water off. He grabbed a towel that he owned, that was draped over one of the pipes, wrapping it around himself. Striding back into the other chamber, he looked into his tent, seeing the two guns he'd taken from Miss Fortune's ship. He would take them to the market and cash them out later, as soon as he'd dried and dressed. The towel slipped from around his body, and he pulled on a pair of boxers. He wouldn't wear his gear out in the City, he had ample clothes of Piltover fashion so he could blend into the population. He pulled on a pair of black denim jeans and a white buttoned-up shirt, stepping into a pair of brown leather shoes. Stuffing the guns hastily into his shoulder pack, slinging it over his shoulder, he strode out of the door to the chamber, and up the stairs. He had to unbarricade the door that lead to the basement stairs. He would forcibly jam it shut whenever he was sleeping there, to avoid people walking in on him unexpectedly. People had given up on even trying to get in there, after many attempts left them unable to force the door open.

He strode out into the fresh air, and to his disdain, it was raining. He couldn't be bothered to go back into the basement to grab an overcoat, and simply began walking away from the warehouse. The warehouse was situated right in the middle of the industrial district of Piltover, surrounded by various factories, processing plants, and the main power station for the Western part of the City. It took him a good half an hour to walk around the various winding roads to get through the industrial area to anywhere approaching the urbanized City Centre. Eventually however, he came to the start of the shopping district, signaling that he had arrived at the Centre. At the start of the district, it was mainly all shopping malls and high end retailers, jewellers and the like. He walked past several stores selling jewellery, gazing in each time as he did so. Piltover had hundreds of these stores, and he could never quite see the point of them all. Material possessions were rather wasted on people, he thought, hence how he could live in a basement with such little to call his own. He didn't even find the jewellery being sold attractive. It just looked like overpriced nonsense to him. He would much rather invest in a rather more ornate blade. He had once owned such a blade, a medium-sized knife that he used to hide up his sleeve, the blade protruding from a Lion's mouth on the hilt. It was by far the most meaningful thing he had ever owned, it had been presented to him by Zed himself, as C graduated up to the final tier in the Order of the Shadows. The blade however, was no longer in his possession. It had been stolen from him in his sleep by a jealous member of the Order, back when C still resided in the headquarters, helping to instruct new acolytes under Zed. He never found out who, but he vowed to never be tricked again in such a way, especially in his sleep.

He turned a left after a flurry of outlets, down a slightly more dingy road. At the end of said road, he walked through an archway and into a market square, looking around for a place that would take his loot from him. He walked down one of the rows of stalls, to a familiar vendor. He reached the counter, and waited. The vendor was a grizzled, middle aged man. He was tall, almost as tall as C, who stood at close to two metres, and he was broad shouldered and burly. He was stocky, with long, thinning brown hair, streaked with grey where he was losing his colour. His face was wrinkled and his lips naturally pursed, from what seems like years of chain smoking. The man took his time walking to the other side of the counter, before placing both of his knuckles on the table, leaning forwards. He looked at C in the eye, almost glaring at him momentarily.

"What've you got for me?" the man said gruffly, his voice gravelly and coarse.

C stood behind the counter, holding the man's gaze, slowly sliding the pack off of his back. C and the vendor, Hakim, were on good terms, they'd shared several drinks together in bars on chance occasions, but they didn't truly see eye to eye. Hakim knew of C's dealing with the Order of the Shadows, knowing that he could never truly trust C. Placing the pack on the table, C took out the two guns, and placed them on the table. Hakim looked at the guns, and immediately his eyebrows raised slightly, seemingly in surprise. C never usually brought much value to Hakim, but this time it seemed to be different. Hakim picked up one of the guns, looking over it with one eye, the other shut.

"Now, where in Valoran would a kid like you get hold of something like this…" Hakim said quietly, his voice becoming even more gravelly under his breath.

C simply stood there, saying nothing. He placed his hand on the other gun, and pushed it towards Hakim. He simply wanted some gold and then to get out. He had other business to attend to in the day.

Hakim was curious, placing the first gun down, and picking up the second. He looked it over the same way as in the first one, examining every inch with his keenly trained eye.

"Just give me a price, Hakim…" C stated bluntly.

Hakim grunted irritatedly back at him, placing the second gun down next to the other.

"5,000, each. Take it or leave it." Hakim said shortly back to him. They had seemingly run out of patience with each other already.

C nodded quickly, and made a small 'mmm' of agreement. Hakim opened his cash registered, and took out a cheque book, hastily handing C a cheque for 10,000 gold. C stuffed the cheque into his pouch, hanging from his waste, nodded in acknowledgement to Hakim, before spinning around and walking away. He would cash the cheque later, but for now, he needed to meet a group of three acolytes under his control.

As soon as he had received his cheque, he was already back through the entrance arch to the market square, walking hastily towards the outskirts of the City, although on the other side to the industrial area where he lived. He only ever met acolytes in a secluded, abandoned building towards the mountain at the back of the City. He was taking the most pragmatic approach to get to his destination, walking in as straight a line as possible. He reached the end of one of the secondary roads, where it joined up to one of the main streets. He looked left and right, before something curious caught his eye. To the right, he saw her. Sarah Fortune, striding in all of her glory down the road, looking slightly worse for wear, and a tad angry. 'Oh well', C thought to himself, he was hooded and masked the night before, no big deal. He couldn't help but make eye contact with her, but as he did, her facial expression turned even more sour than it already had been before. She recoiled for a second, before shooting him an acidic glare. She reached him, and immediately pushed him back down the side road he'd just walked up.

"Your eyes were all I needed to recognize you in a crowd, fool!" she growled.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah Fortune had him found. She pushed him back into the back-alley just off the side street, cornering him, as there was nothing but a dead end behind him. She walked up to him, bringing herself right up close to him. He was taller than her, so they weren't perfectly face to face. She chest bumped him aggressively, before grabbing him by the collar tightly with both hands. She was breathing heavily; C could smell even more alcohol on her breath. She smelled musky, and the alcoholic scent was more than just on her breath. She was sweating profusely, the sort of sweats you get after a heavy night of drinking. She was clearly hungover, massively. Knowing he could overpower her physically, C used his forearm to swat her hands from his collar. Sarah growled and shot him another acidic look, trying to be as menacing as possible.

"You asshole… You better give me back what you've taken from me!" she spluttered, trying to back him into the dead end behind him.

She reached her right arm across her body, down to her left hip, unsheathing a cutlass from her waist. She placed the blade at C's chest, bearing her teeth whilst glaring at him.

"I no longer have said items that you desire, Miss." C said calmly. He spoke very correctly at all times, even under pressure. He smirked toyingly, as if he was playing with her, which he was. He just wanted to let her know just how un-threatened he felt by her. His behavior agitated her to new levels. She raised the cutlass to behind her head, and as she began to swing forwards, C looked above him, and projected a shadow up on to the fire escape on the first floor of one of the buildings next to them. Sarah swung the cutlass towards C, and a fraction of the second before it contacted C, he switched places with his shadow. Sarah's momentum carried her forwards, and she stumbled forwards, falling to her knees as her cutlass met nothing but shadow. She felt a strange chill as she fell through the shadow, balling her fists in anger as she had been outdone by him. C simply laughed from his vantage point on the fire escape above her. C had studied for several years under Zed in the Order of the Shadows, and Zed had taught him everything he knew about how to manipulate shadows, to the extent that C was able to use the as effectively as he had just shown. C projected another shadow to the point just in front of where Sarah was grounded, and switched places with it, bringing himself to a position where he was standing over her. He placed his boot on the cutlass, pressing down with enough force to shatter the blade.

"I see you're not all you're cracked up to be, Sarah." He said, mockingly. He had heard of her reputation, but was not overawed by it. However, he did know that the environment that this skirmish had taken place in was very much to his advantage. He excelled at close combat, she was a gunner. Not to mention, she was extremely hungover. If she was armed with her guns and fully well, things might have been different. C walked past her, towards the main street again. He was done here. From behind him, however, came a whimper and a voice.

"Please… They're my most valued possessions… Please give them back to me…" came Sarah's voice, clearly in distress. C wasn't sure what it was, but he felt a twang of guilt in his chest. A feeling that he'd never had before, and he wasn't sure what had suddenly caused it.

C stopped at the end of the alley, just before he turned on to the street.

"Market Square. Vendor by the name of Hakim. He has what you seek." C said quietly, before turning the corner and walking briskly off.

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Her head was spinning from the previous night alcohol, and she had a killer headache. It was a miracle that she could keep her eyes focused on the things in front of her. She tossed the hilt of her now broken cutlass aside, and stood up gingerly. The palms of her hands were grazed from where she had hit the ground, and they stung as she wiped her blouse down. She slowly turned around, and moved to the end of the alley, not wanting C to escape her. As she reached the end of the alley, she looked both ways, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her number one aid in getting her guns back was gone, disappeared into the hustle and bustle of the City. She still had one lead left, which he had given her. She turned left and walked back out on to the main road, looking up and down the street. Having no idea where to go, she stumbled down the sidewalk on the main road, asking several people for directions to the market square. Occasionally, people were disgusted or at the very least displeased with the state she was in, her mascara running down her cheeks and the alcohol tainting her breath. Eventually she made it to the arch leading in to the market square, and she began to search around the stalls.

Hakim was just packing up his stand as she arrived.

"Please tell me that you're Hakim? I've tried every other god damn stand already…" she spat, irritated.

Hakim looked up from his register, and looked her up and down.

"Well well… I wondered when you would show up, Sarah." He said back to her, his voice gravelly and gruff. He placed his hand to his bearded chin, running his first two fingers through it curiously. He had known exactly who the guns belonged to when C brought them to him. Her guns were famously well known. But he also knew that messing into C's affairs was dangerous business. He had witnessed first-hand what C and Zed were capable of doing to people, and he was not about to become a part of it. He was a tough, thick skinned man, but he wasn't stupid. Messing with assassins wasn't high up on his list of priorities.

Sarah was in no mood for games. Hakim was taking his time, while all she wanted to do was get her guns and get back to her ship, to sleep off her hangover.

"Just give me back what I want, old man. Name your price, I can deliver." She said to him bluntly.

Hakim suddenly became disinterested in her. He didn't put up with people telling him what to do, or demanding things of him. He looked away from her and back to his cash register, continuing to cash up for the day, whilst a yordle behind him loaded his merchandise on to a caravan behind him.

"Can't help you. They've already been sold on. Hard luck." He replied callously, showing as little interest in her as possible.

Sarah was not pleased in the slightest. She balled her fists up, and slammed them on to the counter in front of her. The force jarred her whole body, exaggerating the painful pounding in her head caused by her condition.

"Not good enough!" she said, raising her voice to a noticeable level.

"Tell me who has them now!" she shrieked, veins protruding from her forehead, as her face flushed as red as her hair.

Hakim was still unmoved by her attempts to cause a scene. She was merely being petulant. She was only 19 after all. He didn't care about her well-being after she'd left his company, so he felt no need to withhold this information from her. From the market, there was a clear view of one of the docks overlooking the bay out towards Guardian's Sea. He pointed his finger towards a large, glorious ship, with several sets of vast sails, and across each sail, was a large swordfish painted.

"See that ship? I can't say for sure, but that's your best bet. The guy that bought them had that insignia all over him. And he was dressed like one of your kind, as well." He said, referring to her pirate-like attire.

Sarah calmed down a little, having gotten some information. But she still wasn't satisfied. She glared at him still, whilst raising her fists from the counter.

"And that… asshole… that sold MY guns to you, where can I find him? I'm not stupid, I know you know where he'll be." She asked.

Hakim finally turned back to face her. He knew that C could handle himself. If she went looking for him in search of revenge or vindication, more fool her.

"If you really want to find him, I can only point you in the right direction. Go to warehouse 46. If you'll wait long enough, you might get lucky. Now fuck off." He said, dismissing her coldly. He picked up the cash register in front of him, placing it on the back of the caravan. He jumped up on to the caravan himself, and signaled to the yordle adjacent to him, who immediately jumped up into the carriage at the front, whilst the horse drawing the carriage began to move out slowly.

Sarah had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity. She was leaning against a wall outside Warehouse 46, as instructed by Hakim. In reality, she had been there for 5 hours. But in her mind, it had felt like 5 days. Her head was leant back against the wall, her eyes closed, gently daydreaming to herself. She let out a small sigh, opening her eyes briefly.

"Maybe it's time I call it quits…" she said to herself despondently, under her breath. She stood up from against the wall, and stretched, preparing to walk back to her ship. It was now pitch dark, and as she began to walk from the side of the Warehouse, she became a little scared. She had taken two steps, when with the suddenness of a lightning strike, a shadow rushed through her body from behind, stopping in front of her. The abruptness of this, and how quiet it was around her before it happened, frightened her straight into the next week. She jumped up so forcefully that her pyramidal hat fell from her head to the floor behind her, and she screamed at the top of her lungs in terror. The moment she stopped screaming, C appeared in front of her, changing places with the shadow. Sarah was shaking, and she jumped backwards, stumbling over the hat that had just fallen behind her.

"WHY WOULD YOU EVEN DO THAT!" she yelled at him, half angrily, half terrified. Her voice was quivering from the shock still, and she bit her bottom lip in angst.

C looked back at her, with a straight face, unphased. He showed no emotion whatsoever, simply looking at her.

"I have been observing you for hours, Sarah. Your chest is quite fantastic, I won't lie." He said mockingly, still straight faced.

"You're not exactly very subtle, are you?" he continued.

Sarah gritted her teeth, knowing that he was just trying to push her buttons.

"Why did you keep me waiting?" she asked him, irked by his lack emotion.

C simply ignored her, and walked past her. He came to the entrance to his lair, projecting a shadow to the other side of the door. It was the only way to get in from that side, such was the expert nature of the barricade on the other side. She turned around and followed him, growling with anger as she saw him prepare to switch to the other side of the door.

"Don't you leave me out here now!" she shouted at him, but as she did, C had already switched. Nothing but the grey, wispy shadow remained. Overflowing with anger, Sarah strode up to the door, and began hammering her fist into it with as much force as she could find.

"Let me in you asshole!" she yelled through the door, banging on the door routinely.

On the other side of the door, C had begun walking down the stairs to the two chambers that made up his lair, before he stopped halfway down. He sensed that she wasn't going to give up, and knowing his luck, she would come back and shoot the door down herself. He sighed, before turning around and slowly walking back up the stairs. He carefully disassembled the barricade, opening the door slowly. He looked her in the eye, her face was flushed, bright red. His image of her that he had built up from seeing her on television was quite different to the one in front of him now. Whenever he had seen her on television, she looked flawless, and incredibly sexual. The Miss Fortune stood in front of him now had imperfect skin, tired looking eyes, and scraggly, unwashed hair. The smell of alcohol was still lingering around her as well. For reasons unknown to him, he found her just as attractive in her current state as compared to the perfect, digitally enhanced version from the television. For a split second, he imagined himself ripping her clothes off and ravishing every part of her body.

"I suppose you'd better come inside." C said bluntly, standing aside to let her in. She strode past him, and when she was fully inside, C closed the door and remade the barricade.

Sarah had already descended the stairs by the time he was done, and had wandered into the main chamber where C's tent was residing in the corner. C followed her a minute later, finding her standing in the middle of the chamber, looking around disappointedly.

"This is it? Really?" she said, slightly in awe at C's lack of material possession.

C stood behind her imposingly, nodding.

"This is it." He replied shortly.

Sarah looked around, spotting the tent in the corner. She reached out her arm, and pointed at it.

"That's where you sleep?" she queried, curiously.

C, like Hakim did before him, began to get irritated by her. He didn't want her hanging around keeping him from his own thoughts. He wanted to get rid of her.

"I'm not here to play 20 questions. I assume you've come looking for me for a reason. What is said reason?" C asked, getting straight to the point.

"My guns… T-they're gone. He had already sold them on." She said quietly, a whimper of sadness returning to her voice.

C felt a similar pang of guilt to the one he had felt earlier. Something about her vulnerability appealed to him. The desire to kill those vulnerable and rob them of their possessions was not surfacing like it usually would.

"That is most unfortunate." C said, his voice emotionless and uncaring, even though he did feel something on the inside.

Sarah turned around to look him in the eye, the sad look on her face turning to disgruntlement once again.

"That's it?! That's all you have to say?" her voice raised again, almost becoming a shout.

C looked at her blankly, saying nothing.

"You are the worst human I've ever come across…" she stammered, her blood boiling.

"You're going to come with me. You're going to come with me on my ship. And you're going to help me get my guns back." She said sharply, instructing him.

For the first time, C showed some emotion. He laughed. He was highly amused by the way she thought she could order him around.

"No." he said, smirking slightly. He moved slightly to the left of her, and walked by, heading towards his tent.

"You should probably leave now." he followed, uncaringly.

Sarah simply stood there, rooted to the ground. Her jaw dropped, she couldn't believe just how little he cared. He was completely unmoved by any of it. Did he have no heart? She let out a muffled cry under her breath, before turning and angrily stomping towards the stairs. She stopped just as she got to the bottom of the stairs, punching the wall next to her.

"I hate you." She said, trying to sound angry and hostile. In actual fact, it came out more in a tone of sadness.

As those words entered C's ears, he felt that twang of guilt again. The image from earlier, of him tearing her clothes away, flashed through his mind again. This time however, it was followed by a split second image of the two of them cuddling in the bed on her ship, after just having made love. He was so taken aback by this image, that he was stopped in his tracks.

"What the hell…" he uttered quietly to himself under his breath. He slowly looked over his shoulder, where she was just beginning to climb the stairs. His next actions he seemingly had no control over. He grabbed the attire he wore when he was undertaking a mission, contained in a bag next to the tent. He grabbed his two shruikens and his two blades from their mounts on the wall, and strode briskly after her. He wasn't even thinking about what he was doing, it was all on autopilot. He got to the bottom of the stairs, and walked up them. She was already out of the door, and he broke into a run up the stairs. He reached the top, and saw her striding quickly down towards the City Centre.

"Sarah!" he called to her, causing her to stop and turn around.

He walked towards her, staring at her intently. He drew closer to her, stopping in front of her. The moonlight illuminated her face, her mascara-covered cheeks glistening in the light where a couple of tears had escaped the corners of her eyes.

"I'll come with you." He said as bluntly as before.

Sarah looked at him, stunned. What had caused such a sudden change in his mind? She didn't know how she felt. She couldn't quite find the emotion to match the situation. She'd convinced him to come with her. But now what? How should she react to him now?

"Follow me, we'll go to my ship now. We can set off as soon as we arrive there, even though it's dark. I'm not scared or sailing in the dark like the other sailors are." She said, almost as if she was trying to show off. She turned around and began to lead him in the direction of the port. Unusually for her, she was slightly uneasy in the darkness on this night. She wouldn't normally care one little bit. But she did for some reason tonight. Maybe it was all of the frights she'd had in the day making her feel a little bit vulnerable. Maybe it was just her hangover. Or a mixture of the two. She would pause and look around each corner as they walked, hesitating to walk out into the blackness. C picked up on this, taking a mental note of it. As they neared the port, they came to a particularly dark crossroad on one of the backstreets. Sarah stopped, looking around each corner cautiously, biting her lower lip. Noticing this, C gently put his hand on the small of her back, her skin soft, yet moist, from perspiration. Sarah felt his hand on her skin, and for a moment, smiled to herself, letting out a contented 'hmmm' sound. Neither of them, however, could see the reaction of the other. Only the sound Sarah made was picked up even remotely by C. Sarah came to her senses, and brushed his hand from her with her arm.

"Don't do that." She said, confused at her own reaction.

She walked across the cross in the alley, and a few minutes later, they arrived at the seafront, and the docks. At the ramp connecting her ship to the pier, she stopped.

C stood behind her, before he thought to make some things clear.

"I'm going to need my own room," He said with his usual flat tone.

"No one is to bother me, understand?"

His passive-aggressive arrogance only served to wind her up again. But she knew agreeing with him would be for the better of both of them.

"Whatever. I wouldn't want to subject my crew to having to live with you anyway. Besides, who would ever want to bother you?" The nature of her words were bitter and acerbic. It was the most scathing comment she'd made to him.

C let out a wry smile, she had finally found some fight in her when dealing with him. He simply walked up the ramp on to the deck of the ship, and she followed him. When she reached the deck, she unattached the ramp from the side of the ship.

"Come on, I'll show you to where you can sleep." She informed him, striding towards the same hatch C had slipped down the previous day. She took him down to the first level, and led him along a long corridor, each side lined with rooms containing the beds of several of her crew members. They reach a door at the end of the corridor, which she opened and walked into. C followed her in, seeing the room. It was much more elaborate than the damp, dingy rooms that the other crew were packed into. There was a double bed at the back of the room, in the centre of the back wall. A desk was present on the right wall, and a dresser on the opposite. A hearty rug, made of polar bear pelt was in the centre of the room on the floor, and all of the wood was polished and unblemished, as opposed to the wet, sometimes deformed wood that made up the walls of the other crew members rooms.

"This is you. I'm going back up to my room." Sarah said, before turning and walking to the door.

"If you feel the need to bother me, Sarah, I'm sure I can make an exception for that chest of yours…" C said teasingly as she walked towards the corridor.

His words frustrated her, she couldn't stand him. His whole demeanor set her teeth on edge. He seemed to not care about her at all, yet out of nowhere, he was capable of being extremely cheeky, almost flirty.

"Fuck off." She replied bluntly, storming off down the corridor.

C laughed quietly to himself, dropping his pack to the floor at the foot of his new bed. It wasn't too shabby of a room, he thought to himself. It was a damn sight more luxurious than the basement he had become used to bedding down in. He paced the room for a minute, before setting himself down on the bed. It was soft and comfortable, and he kicked his shoes off before lying back on to it. Barely had he had a moment to ponder, before he was startled by the loud bang of a cannon firing from the side of the ship, followed by the gentle feeling of motion as the ship began to move. The cannon signaled the ship leaving the port. They were off.

C stood up from his bed, taking off his shirt and bottoms, before walking to the door and shutting it. He looked around the room, before walking back to the bed and flopping on to it. He lay there on top of the covers, staring up into the ceiling above him. He couldn't quite believe what he was doing. Before long, he felt himself growing tired. He let out a long yawn, signaling to himself that he should try and get some sleep. He doubted how successful this would be however, as he always found it difficult sleeping in somewhere unfamiliar. He shuffled around on the bed and pulled the covers over him, trying to drift off into a slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

C was woken up the next morning by a repeated, savage banging on his door. He opened his eyes, and immediately felt queasy. He hadn't spent much time at sea, and his stomach was churning like there was no tomorrow. After another bang, followed by a discontented rumble of his stomach, his door opened, and in came none other than Sarah. She was still wearing her pajamas, which consisted of white, trouser length bottoms, which were adorned with both Jolly Roger's and Skull and Crossbones, and a black, baggy t shirt that was at least two sizes too big for her. Her wavy red hair was tied back into a lose pony-tail, and her face was make-up free. He looked at her face through his squinted eyes, noticing the small imperfections on her skin that would normally be hidden by said make-up. There was a small pimple on her cheek, and the bridge of her nose was very lightly freckled. She was carrying a tray in front of her, which had what looked like a hot mug of tea and some toast. Had she made him breakfast? That would certainly be quite the u-turn from the previous day. He rolled on to his back, opening his eyes fully, seeing her in her natural form stood in front of his bed.

"I thought I told you no-one was to disturb me…" C said groggily.

Barely had the words left his mouth, that Sarah's face once again turned sour. She screwed her face up and growled at him. She stomped over to the desk in the room and dropped the tray onto it, causing some of the tea to spill out from the mug. She walked back to the foot of his bed, glaring at him angrily.

"Fine, fuck you then. I try to be nice and what do I get?" she spat at him, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, muttering curses under her breath before slamming the door behind her.

C hadn't fully woken up yet, and spent a few moments piecing together what had just happened in his mind. He thought that he had been trying to make a joke with her, not offend her. Had he overestimated just how much he could pass off as a joke with her? He felt a little bit bad on the inside, but his guilt and seasickness soon turned into hunger when he smelt the tea and toast she had brought to him. He swung his feet out of the bed, and stood up. He realized that he only had the clothes he travelled in, and his ninja attire to wear. He'd have to leave the ship at buy some clothes at the first place they docked. He walked slowly over to the desk, and picked up the tray, bringing it back over to his bed. He got back under the covers, still feeling a bit fragile. He hadn't slept fantastically well due to the motion of the ship on the waters. He propped himself up in bed, and began to eat his breakfast. She had even provided him with a variety of condiments to go with the toast. For some reason or another, she had put some effort into it. He simply chose to put peanut-butter on the slices. After finishing his breakfast, he got out of bed, and pulled on the clothes he wore the day before. Maybe he should go and find Sarah and apologise for the earlier incident. He eventually decided against it, not wanting to make the mistake she did in exposing a vulnerability. He opened the door to his room and walked out on to the corridor, walking along the tunnel reaching the ladder at the bottom of the hatch leading to the deck. He proceeded to climb up on to the deck, pushing open the trap door. He took his first steps on the deck, and immediately took a deep breath of the fresh ocean air. He looked around him, over the sides of the ship, and all he could see was water. The horizon all around him, from every possible angle, was flat and blue. There wasn't sight of land anywhere. He could no longer see the Piltover bay behind the ship, only the gentle blue rolls of the Guardian's Sea. The deck was littered with Sarah's crew members, tending to various jobs around the ship. C chose to ignore all of them, he would hope that Sarah had told them not to try and engage him. He walked to the top of the bow, looking out over the front of the ship, seeing the vast seas in front of him where they were travelling. It was quite mesmerizing. He gripped on to the barriers that stopped the crew members falling over the side of the ship, surveying the scene in front of him. It was utterly beautiful. Small waves broke the perfection of the water, which was so serene that the only way you could tell the difference between the sky and the water was the slightly different shade of blue. It almost rolled into one if you stared long enough over the horizon. The ship glided across the sea effortlessly, so much more easily than any other ship he'd seen before. He could actually get used to this, he thought. He was stood there, looking over the front of the ship, for a good hour, before his thoughts were interrupted. Two hands slapped down on the rail next to him, and C jumped slightly. He turned his head, to see one of the crew members stood next to him, also looking out over the sea. C shut his eyes briefly and sighed, maybe this guy hadn't gotten the memo.

"It's quite somethin' isn't it laddie…" the crew member said, turning his neck to look across the entire horizon.

"I thought that I requested not to be bothered." C replied bluntly, slightly irked by the crew member's presence.

The crew member smirked, letting out a small laugh, reminiscent of the way C himself had wound up Sarah the days before.

"Well, it's a good thing that I ain't here to bother ya, eh?" he replied.

"The names Arlan, I'm from Bilgewater, somewhere over y'arr." he continued, pointing lazily towards a point in the horizon.

C was slightly confused, no one usually dared to ignore him once he had told them to leave him alone. He decided to let him be entertained for a while.

"Hmm. Just call me C. It's what everyone calls me." C said quietly, continuing to stare out over the sea.

"You've caused quite a stir with the cap'n, C. I've never seen 'er acting so… erratically in all my time on this fine ship…" Arlan said, to C's surprise.

"Erratically? How so?" C responded, curiously. He turned his head to face Arlan for the first time, genuinely interested in what the man had to say. He knew what he was hoping for.

"Well err… She mentioned how much of a rapscallion she thinks you are… But then just a few ticks later she was making you yerr breakfast. I couldn't quite fathom it out me'self laddie." He explained.

C took this in for a few moments, he'd heard of this behavior before. She was like a schoolgirl with a crush on someone she knew she shouldn't have one on, oscillating from one extreme to the next. He didn't think she was that childish.

He simply said nothing, but he smiled contentedly to himself. He turned his head back out to the sea, and his thoughts turned back to the journey.

"So… where abouts are we headed first, Arlan?" he enquired curiously.

"First stop's Noxus, matey. We'll be arriving there in the hour. If you look out ahead you can probably see the blasted place now." Came the response, Arlan pointing his finger out in front of him. Surely enough, C could see the outlines of the coast on the horizon.

"Thanks for your time, Arlan. I'm sure our paths will cross again in the future." C said politely, before walking back towards the centre of the ship.

An hour later, the ship cruised into the port at Noxus. They had arrived at their first destination. C was waiting in his room, and noticed the gentle motion of the ship coming to a halt, and the feel of the anchor being dropped. He savoured his last few moments of peace before getting off of his bed. He walked over to his chest of drawers, removing his clothes in the process. From the chest of drawers, he retrieved his assassins gear. He pulled on his black one piece, flung his cloak over his shoulders, tying the strings round his neck. He pulled the hood up over his head, before slipping into his tabis. He took a leather case out of the second drawer, placing it on top of the chest of drawers, opening it up. It contained two shruikens and two wrist blades. He pulled his sleeves back, attaching a blade to each wrist, before pulling the sleeves back down to semi-conceal them. He picked up the shruikens and placed them on the inside of his cloak, pulling it around him like a jacket, concealing his front. He walked out of his room onto the corridor, striding down and up out of the hatch, to the deck. The shore party was already disembarking, with Sarah standing at the back, waiting to go last. C strode across the deck towards the disembark point, and Sarah looked at him disapprovingly.

"You're late." She said, slightly irritated.

C simply carried on walking towards the ramp, not saying anything. He walked past her without so much as acknowledging her, and walked down the ramp after the other members of the shore party. Sarah was not pleased by this in the slightest.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" she shouted after him, getting more and more annoyed by his arrogance.

C walked on still, saluting mockingly, with his back still to her.

C walked into the port, looking around. He had no intention of helping her look for her missing ship. He had some unfinished business in Noxus to take care of himself.

"Whatever. Just be back here at dark, asshole." Sarah called after him, giving up on trying to make him fall in line.

Still ignoring her, C mockingly saluted again, before moving out from the port on to the streets. The street containing the entrance to the port had a dingy, grotty feel to it, just like the rest of Noxus. He walked down the street, thinking to himself that the only place more deprave than this was when he had visited Zaun. He continued down the street, stopping in front of a pub. Above the door, inscribed on a moldy wooden plaque, was the name "The Slain Yordle.". What a charming name for an establishment. He pushed gently through the doors, and the pub was less than crowded. There was a bar in the centre of the room, that was circular allowing people to stand at all sides of it. The barman was a burly, broad looking Noxian, with jet black, crop-cut hair, a generous covering of stubble on his chin, partially covering his heavily-scarred face. His larger than average hands were wrapped around a tankard that he was cleaning with a damp rag. Around the rest of the room, there were several rickety-looking, damaged tables, accompanied by chairs that were in an equal state of disrepair. C walked over to the bar, and stood next to the only figure drinking at the bar. The man was shorter than C, with balding silvery hair atop a rough, rugged face. He had a similar set of stubble as the bar tender, but missing the scars. The man also had the same icy-cold, piercing eyes that C had. The man looked to his side as C came to stand next to him, and sighed disapprovingly as he recognized him, even through the hood.

"What the hell are you doing here…" the old man grumbled, taking a drink of ale from the tankard he was clutching.

C stood next to the man, looking straight ahead. He didn't turn to look at all. The barman brought over a tankard of ale, handing it to C. The man next to C waved to the barman, signaling that the drink should be put on his tab.

"I thought that, seeing as I'm already here, I should at least make appearances after all these years." C said flatly.

The man took another drink of ale, placing the tankard down on the table.

"8 years. 8 years since you became a disgrace. 8 years since anyone last saw you." The man stated, bluntly.

C took a drink of ale, still not turning to face the man.

"I didn't come here seeking your approval, father." C said.

Finally C turned to look at the man, his father. He surveyed him up and down once, before turning back to his front, drinking from his tankard.

"So you've come here just to agitate me, that's it is it?" his father said, irritatedly.

"You disgrace our family name, leave your mother and I in the lurch and flee Ionia. And all of a sudden you just show up. Your mother will be turning in her grave."

C's stomach lurched at the mention of his mother. He had only heard a rumour of his mother's death, it had never been confirmed to him until now.

"There was no way I could ever come back after that, father." C mumbled quietly.

He looked to the side and faced his father again.

"You murdered 3 innocent people. In cold blood. But you could have at least told us." Grumbled his father.

C frowned, staring intently into his father's eyes.

"I had to prove myself. You don't know what it was like in there. The pressure. The expectation. When I harnessed the power of the shadows, I was finally able to duel anyone and win. People still didn't believe me. So I was cast from the order. Who cares. I do alright for myself now." C said, explaining himself, not that he cared.

"Well, now I know you're still alive, I'm going to send a message to the academy in Ionia. They want to bring you in for punishment. I can't not tell them." His Father said honestly.

C stared at his father intently, his eyes narrowing and his glare becoming more intense. He was focused on him, his lower jaw slowly dropping.

"No. You're not going to do that, Father." C said sternly, forcefully.

His father looked back into C's icy-cold eyes, he wasn't going to be persuaded otherwise.

"I'm not even sorry, son. I have to turn you in." he said, finally.

C gritted his teeth in anger, balling his fists. He hadn't been left with any other choice. He projected a shadow to outside the door, and in the same motion he released a hidden blade from his wrist. With one fatal slash, he swung the blade upwards, killing his father in one fell swoop. He immediately switched places with his shadow, making his getaway. He couldn't quite believe what he had just done. He broke out into a run, getting as much distance between himself and the grotty pub as possible. Surprisingly to him, he felt no emotion whatsoever. He hadn't seen his father in a decade before this. And they had disliked each other from when C was old enough to first train in martial arts. Killing him bore no burden on his heart. It was just business after all.

C turned a corner, finally arriving at the market place. He knew this is where Sarah and the crew would have could to in their search for clues. Besides, he could smells Sarah's choking perfume. He strode into the market place, instantly noticing Sarah's beautiful red hair.

"You're late." Sarah said sternly.

"We were just about to leave, asshole."

C simply gave a wry smile.

"Whatever, let's go then." C said, slightly amused at the ill feeling he'd caused.

C walked back up the ramp to the ship, leaving the Noxus dock. He was the last of the ship's residents to return back. Arlan was waiting for him by the side of the ship, snoozing on his chair. C gently kicked his legs, waking him up.

"I'm back now, Arlan. We can leave now." C said quietly to him. It was pitch dark now, their journey into Noxus taking up the entire day. Arlan jumped slightly, before nodding to C, standing up and beginning to detach the ramp from the dock.

"Cap'n wanted to see you, C." Arlan said groggily whilst tending to the side of the ship.

Curious, C thought. He walked across the deck of the ship, to the door to Sarah's cabin. He stood in from of the heart-covered entrance to her living quarters, hesitating slightly. He raised his hand, and knocked sharply on the door.

"Come in." came Sarah's voice from behind the door, prompting C to open the doors and walk through. Sarah's room was in a much tidier state than C had last seen it. There were no empty wine bottles littering the room, and she was sat on her bed, brushing her hair.

"I was informed that you wished my presence, Sarah." C retorted politely.

Sarah screwed up her face, his polite way of speaking to people irritated her.

"Do you always have to speak like such a… I don't even know the word to use to describe you." She said callously.

C was rather taken aback by this, he wasn't expecting such hostility, especially after the work they'd put in together on the shores.

"Well. Fuck you too then, I suppose." C said, idly. He didn't really care for such comments from her.

Sarah rolled her eyes, standing up and moving to her desk, standing behind it.

"But yes, I did want to see you. We did okay today. But we need more clues than this. We'll be moving on to Bandle City next, it'll take us a while to get there, however. Even more time for me to have to put up with you." She said.

C for some reason allowed her next spiteful comment to get to him, and he rose to it.

"Have you literally just called me in here to insult me?" he said strongly, walking up to the other side of her desk.

Sarah reached into the drawer of her desk, and pulled out a bottle of rum that she had purchased in Piltover. She took out two glasses, and poured two generous servings, handing one of them to him.

"Oh lighten up. Have a drink." She said, sounding almost exasperated.

C accepted the drink from her, and took a sip. It was extremely potent, and he recoiled slightly as the alcohol stung his lips and the roof of his mouth. Sarah laughed slightly at him, and took a sizeable gulp of her own drink, no such negative effect hitting her.

"What made you change your mind? I mean, what made you want to come on to the ship with me?" Sarah asked him, her eyes full of intrigue. She had never actually thought about what made him change his mind up until now.

C wasn't expecting such a question from her, and had to take a moment to contemplate what he had just been asked. In truth, he had followed her due to pure infatuation with her looks. He remembered the images that had clouded his judgment, particularly the one of him ripping her clothes off. C moved around the desk to stand a little closer to her, examining her.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I want to help you find your guns so that I can rob them from you again." C said jokingly. It was the first time that he had lightened up around her.

Sarah smiled coyly back at him, biting her lower lip.

"Please, it wouldn't have anything to do with my… 'quite fantastic chest', as you put it?" she quipped, looking smug.

C was on to her game immediately. She was fishing for compliments. He wasn't going to let himself be manipulated that easily.

"Oh, those? Sarah, fantastic is hardly the highest praise I could give you." He said remorselessly.

Sarah recoiled slightly, not expecting such a blunt put down. She took a step closer to him, staring at him intently. She adjusted her top slightly, pulling just a bit more cleavage into view.

"Well, you seemed quite enamored with them yesterday, you could hardly take your eyes off of them…" she said, her voice oozing with sexuality. C however, wasn't taking the bait. He however, couldn't resist the urge to look at her cleavage. He found his blood pressure rising slightly, but in actuality, he was becoming slightly annoyed by her constant fishing.

"Trust me Sarah, I don't know why I came to help you. But you certainly weren't the reason. All you are is just a big pair of tits and a deceitful smile." He said without thinking. There was no way he had planned to be that callous to her.

Sarah couldn't quite believe what she had just heard. Her eyes filled with rage, and she glared menacingly at him.

"Y-you… I… OH GOD I HATE YOU!" she snarled at him, the last 3 words becoming more of a yell, every syllable filled with anger. She gritted her teeth, and smashed her balled fist into his chest.

C felt her fists bang into his chest, and he felt strangely attracted to her. She was furious, her face was red, and a vein was practically bursting out of her forehead. He simply laughed mockingly at her as she almost exploded with rage.

"Cute… You don't hate me, though. Quite the opposite." He said, giggling to himself.

Sarah snarled back at him, she couldn't believe that he had gotten her this wound up. She was stronger than this, better than this. She took a step closer to him, punching his chest again.

"Whatever, fool. You're just another useless Zed clone, I should have known you'd be useless…" she snapped back.

This was not something C was used to. He was a proud man, and never reacted well to being chastised.

"…Bitch. If there's one thing I'm not, it's a Zed clone." He said, slightly irked by her insult. He took a step forwards, not realizing he was staring at her lips. His head tilted slightly, subconsciously so that his nose would be out of the way of hers.

"Useless Zed clone. I should have known you'd be zero fucking help at all! Why did I even bring you along…" Sarah sighed, berating herself for her perceived lack of judgment.

C clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, staring into her eyes intently. He could feel himself edging his face closer to hers, he had never had a weirder experience in his life. They were both so angry, but C could feel the sexual tension between them.

At the last possible second, he stopped himself from leaning in and kissing her roughly. He simply scowled, letting out a disapproving grunt, and stormed out of her room. He kicked the door open as he left, and it let out a loud bang when it slammed shut behind him.

Sarah simply stood there in disbelief over what had just happened. She had a strange sensation in her body, a feeling that she couldn't even describe was manifesting itself just above her pubic bone, and a feeling of strong warmth and slight wetness was between her legs. She hadn't realized it when they were arguing, but now it was more obvious than anything, sticking in her mind like a sore thumb.

She staggered over to her desk, opening the drawer and pulling out a bottle of rum that they had purchased in Noxus. She popped the top from the bottle, and took a long swig, straight from the source. She was distressed, she couldn't quite figure out how she felt. She hated him, but my god did how she realized she felt feel good. She took another swig from the bottle, placing it back on her desk, letting out a loud yawn. Having no idea of the time, she thought it would be wise to go to bed and sleep these feelings off. She slowly took her top over her head, and slid her leather trousers off. She walked over to her bed, stopping momentarily before lying down. She was curious. She moved her hand down and placed it over the fabric covering her vulva. She was surprised, never having really felt this way before, to feel warmth radiating from herself, and her cotton knickers were slightly damp. She definitely needed to sleep this off, she thought to herself, as she dropped onto her bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Outside of her cabin, C walked briskly across the deck towards the crew quarters below deck. He was seething, yet wanted nothing more than to go back into her cabin and ravish every square inch of her. He dropped down the hatch, into the corridor where the crew's rooms where. Barely before he got to the door to his room, he bumped into none other than Arlan.

"Lookin' a bit flustered there, me hearty. Something the matter?" he said, curiously.

C wasn't really sure if he wanted to interact with anyone right now, whether it was safe to. He looked at Arlan blankly, not saying anything. He wanted to find some words to say, through politeness, but he couldn't think of any.

"A bit of a confrontation with the skipper aye?" Arlan continued, his eyes telling of his insight. He knew what was going to happen between the two of them, he could see it a mile off. C still couldn't find any words.

"All I'm saying laddie, is that she's been talking about you non-stop. Just you remember that. G'night." He finished, walking past C to his bunk.

C was nonplussed. He stood there for a moment, contemplating what he had just been told. It took him a few seconds to regain his focus, and he carried on walking down the corridor, turning into his room for the night.


End file.
